


If You Only Knew, What I Want To Do To You

by AmberValCepri



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dirty Thoughts, Friends butting in, Imagining things while the other is oblivious, Kink Meme, M/M, Non-descript Lavellan, Pining, Solas being a scholar, The Inquisitor is an Ass-Man, Unrequited, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 19:21:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4888969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmberValCepri/pseuds/AmberValCepri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lavellan has a dirty mind, and he lets it wander while Solas talks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Only Knew, What I Want To Do To You

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fill for this prompt: http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/14614.html?thread=57271062#t57271062

Solas’ voice was soothing as he spoke about the memories he had witnessed. Right now he was speaking about a memory of a dwarf’s first visit to the surface. Lavellan was paying attention, he really was. Just, not the way he probably should. He had made a habit of dropping by every now and then to listen to the older elf speak on things that were inconsequential to their primary goal. And while the Dreamer spoke Lavellan’s mind wandered.

What he would not give to be able to feel the line of that waist, just slide his staff calloused hands across the vague dividing line and follow the lean muscles to his spine then continue up to his neck. If he still had a shirt on he’d pull down the high collar just so he could lean in to taste the skin there. He couldn’t imagine the taste, maybe something heavy, but sharp like that magic Solas commanded.

Once he’d gotten a taste he’d go for the ears. Use his tongue at first to draw along the edge, then teeth nipping lightly before digging them into the tender flesh. He’d have to turn him around then, need to get those beautifully formed lips under his while his hands lifted up the shirt. He wondered what he would find there, pure muscle from surviving on his own? Or would there be a thin layer to smooth things out? His eyes trailed from the other elf’s neck as Solas poured over a thick book, commenting on something about the runes some paragon made. He was sure it was interesting, but the angle as the other mage leaned back in his chair gave Lavellan a perfect view of that chest and how it was hidden with just enough to tease the eye, “At times I wonder why a paragon would spend time creating such a rune in the middle of the dunes of the Hissing Wastes. What drew him from his thaig, was it the war mentioned that made him create them? Or something after?” Solas inquired to no one in particular, frowning at the book before him.

“Necessity perhaps? Didn’t we give that rune to Dagna to study though?” Lavellan managed to pick up, not about to let the other on to the fact that he was no paying attention to his words.

“Yes, but the specifics, Inquisitor!” And Solas stood, getting more animated as he carted the book about and dove more into possible theories.

And there were those legs. Long and slim, but with corded muscle that Lavellan wanted to dig his fingers into. He wanted to see them spread for him, his waist settled between them as he held onto them. Or maybe pressed up until his knees were at his chest, folding him in half. Lavellan would want to see his face, categorize every expression.

He tilted his head slightly as Solas turned, still going on about what Dagna had found about the fire runes and how they aligned with certain possible historical events. Barely hidden lust simmered in eyes that trailed down the curved of his back and over his ass. It was perfect for grabbing hold of, he could hold him up against a wall by that alone, though the hips that went with the ass were just as nice. Thin but with a nice little curve, if he could just get him bent over the desk. Beg for it till all three floors-

A loud bang rang through the rotunda as a book landed on the floor just an arms length away from Lavellan and he shrieked, jumping from his chair. Lavellan stared at it and then up at the second floor where Dorian stood with a peeved look on his face, “There, an entire tomb on dwarven history with runes, including Kal-Sharok. Your knowledge of the historical significance of runes in dwarven history is abysmal, Solas. So, you’re welcome.”

The Tevinter mage bowed as if he had done the both of them a huge favor before disappearing from the railing before Solas could retort. Lavellan composed himself, reining in his treacherous thoughts as he stood, “I’ll talk to him about throwing books,” he said with a sigh, “Again.”

“Thank you, Lethallin,” Solas said with a warm smile.

Lavellan picked up the book and handed it to Solas before he climbed the stairs and moved to Dorian’s little alcove, opening his mouth to start scolding the other when he was cut off, “You’re welcome,” It was soft enough that those around them probably couldn’t hear and the elf raised any eyebrow at Dorian.

The human rolled his eyes, “I was watching you from up here,” his voice softer now, “And you were completely lost in some very…interesting thoughts if I’m right, and I’m always right. If I’d let you stay there much longer he’d come to some incredible epiphany and you’d be left in the dust with that hungry look lurking under the surface that you'd have to explain."

Lavellan blushed darkly, “Oh…”

“Don’t worry, only I really noticed. I don’t think you could pull him out of his muses but for an explosion of some sort when he gets going. Now, I do have a suggestion: you may want to, I don’t know, do something about that infatuation you have,” he whispered the last part.

The blush darkened, “Dorian…”

“Just a suggestion, now berate me for throwing books before people get suspicious of something else,” Dorian said, setting his expression to properly exasperated.

Lavellan grinned in thanks before launching into the before mentioned reprimand.


End file.
